Suspension

Am back in portland. I have one more day here before I go home, and I just want to hang suspended, untethered, for a few more hours. I'm not sure I'm ready to come home just yet, not sure I "got what I wanted" from this time (whatever that was), but I do feel like I nourished myself in some important ways, got some clarity on some things, explored some edges of self and desired self, had a few more questions posed, grappled with some of them, laid a little epistemological foundation for the work I'm doing. I realize how much I love this unstructured time and how generative it is and that I need to make more of that happen in my "real life" -- don't know how exactly, but it's a goal, now.

My time at the beach was good, and I loved the water. Unbelievably unfettered, roiling, endless horizon. I went for a longish run on the tide flats yesterday morning, and a shorter one today. Entering that space, mist and roil and whoosh and hard soft wet dry shifting footing, tugs me down into the earth in a way that nowhere else ever does.

The one edge to the trip was some tension in my coordination with Jane, which erupted a bit in the car on the way home. It was there between us the whole time but I think the little cracking of the surface surprised us both and left me feeling a little bruised. Trying to unpack the meaning of that for me -- it's about matching pace, breathing between the vertebrae, listening deeply, wondering how intimacy will get made for me in new ways. Not sure what to make of it yet.

I didn't manage to capture the full coastal vista we could see from various points along the road on the way back -- we stopped at a state park with an astonishing perspective -- but I did find a twillight moment that represents the place in a tiny way. It's a magnificent place.